


Say His Name

by sheepypu



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Angry Jim, Interrogation, Jealousy, M/M, Smug Mycroft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 19:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17668484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheepypu/pseuds/sheepypu
Summary: Alternate Timeline: Jim has returned two years after the fall, unfortunately for him, Sherlock hasn't. Mycroft has captured him for questioning and begins to inquire about other things.





	Say His Name

Jim glanced up as he heard the creak of the door opening, a familiar face stepping into the room, "Ah, Mr Holmes, do come in, take a seat." He purred happily, a grin on his lips, he looked eager, a hunger in his eyes.

 

Mycroft looked him over questionably as he stepped inside, "You do know this is my interrogation room and not your office?" He said, but the man had been in their company for about a month, being tortured and dragged back into this room day after day, it would be understandable if Jim was starting to lose the plot a bit. That's what he was waiting for, at least, maybe then he'd get something out of him. Jim looked half dead, pale, skinny as a stick, dark circles around his eyes, and yet his mind was all still there.

 

Jim huffed and sat back in his seat, his handcuffs clinking from where he was chained to the table, wrists red raw from a month of being restrained, "I seem to spend more time in here than you do, it should be my office." He said, somewhat petulantly. He drummed his fingers on the table, "You do like to keep a man waiting." He said, his sharp eyes meeting Mycroft's, " _Sherlock_ never used to kept me waiting."

 

Mycroft's gaze narrowed at that, "Say his name again and I'll consider our meetings finished for a whole week." He warned and that seemed to shut the criminal up. Jim lived for these interactions, the game of mental chess as he evaded answering questions and postponing his investigation into what happened on that rooftop and how on earth Jim had shown up alive and well a whole two years later. Sherlock, unfortunately, hadn't.

 

He took a deep breath and moved to take a seat in the chair opposite Jim, opening up a leather bound file with a notebook inside, the contents of which he kept out of Jim's line of sight, tilted up towards himself just to annoy him as he scribbled notes until Jim got impatient and cleared his throat loudly, "I want to talk about something new today." Mycroft decided, infinite patience in his tone.

 

Jim's interest was peaked by that statement and he smiled innocently, " _Oh?_ And what would that be? How to find a tailor that doesn't make you look fat?" He asked, giving the older man a once over.

 

Mycroft covered his anger well, James Moriarty was nothing more than a brat that had had all of his toys taken away, it was the only way he could lash out in his current situation. He cleared his throat, "I want to talk about Sebastian Moran." He said, watching for the first time as Jim's expression faltered, it was only for a split second, but it was there.

 

"What a shame. Not quite in the mood." Jim brushed off with a shrug, looking off to the side. He heard Mycroft scribbling notes in his fucking notebook and his shoulders tensed, "Stop that." He said, shooting a glare at him.

 

Jim seemed to be getting irritable, that was good. Mycroft kept writing until he was finished, flat out ignoring Jim, "You haven't told him you're back yet, have you?" He asked, watching as Jim looked away again, "Why is that, I wonder?" He hummed.

 

Jim glared at him, his tone restrained, "It's hard to pick up a phone when you're a prisoner."

 

Mycroft chuckled, "Come now, James, you were back for two weeks before I picked you up, that was plenty of time for a reunion, and yet he seems blissfully unaware you're back from the dead." He mused, watching Jim's expression, it was fascinating. For someone who despised sentiment the criminal seemed to actually care, "You know he found someone else while you were gone?" He probed, "He seems pretty happy by all accounts."

 

Jim's jaw set, "We are not discussing him." He said firmly, anger bubbling below the surface.

 

Mycroft's brow rose curiously, "You can't even say his name, can you? Does it bring you that much heartache?" He asked rather patronisingly.

 

Jim's hands balled into fists, "Of course not." He watched as Mycroft silently scribbled more notes, the sound of the pen scratching the paper giving him a headache and after a minute he slammed his hands down on the metal table with a loud bang, chains clinking, the guards stationed behind him straightened up in warning, " _ **STOP THAT** **!**_ " He snapped.

 

Mycroft just smiled softly, shaking his head at the guards to assure them it was alright, "Did I hit a nerve there?" He asked, raising a brow and looking as smug as humanly possible.

 

Jim wanted to scratch his eyes out, but he settled instead for scratching at the table as he looked at him, he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of breaking, no he would just have to fight back, "It's no wonder Sherly killed himself. I would throw myself off a roof too if I had to listen to you for another second." He said, rubbing his forehead to quell his sudden headache.

 

Mycroft's amusement faded somewhat at the mention of his brother and he just slowly closed his file, "Well then, I'll just leave you to it, shall I?" He said, standing up, "Another week or two might loosen you up." He decided, "I'll expect an apology when we next meet or else I won't be so kind." He said as he left the room, the door slamming closed.

 

Jim glared after him, jaw set and teeth grinding, he didn't regret what he'd said... Not _yet_ anyway.


End file.
